This is a sequel to my first story, "Fight or Flight?" It is not necessary that you read it to understand what happens here, but if you want the details of what happened to Nico, and a better description of the three eagles, you should probably check that out first. So, enjoy the story, and please, leave a review, telling me what I can do better on, or just commenting on the story.

Murderous Intentions

Today, the beaches of Rio de Janeiro were at the peak of their beauty. The sky was completely clear of any clouds, the sun shining dominantly down upon the beaches. The temperature was at least ninety degrees. The water was as blue as ever, the sand as white as ever. The beaches swarmed with humans and birds alike, either relaxing in the warm sand or dipping into the cool ocean. The streets next to the beaches swarmed with cars and beach-goers alike. Yes, today was the perfect day for a visit to the beach.

However, Nico found it impossible to enjoy this perfect day. He and Pedro were flying over one of the sandy beaches, over its relaxing inhabitants. Pedro seemed to be basking in the warm glow of the sun, inhaling the intoxicating scent of the ocean breeze. Nico was the exact opposite. He couldn't go ten seconds without looking nervously over his shoulder, or darting his eyes in a paranoid fashion all around him, or jumping at the slightest noise. He was a mess.

Normally, Nico would be the first one to land on the sands of the beach, and mingle with chicks and grab a variety of different foods off of unsuspecting humans. He would normally be the first one to suggest that he and Pedro dive into the ocean and move their shenanigans underwater. Today, however, he refused to land. Every time Pedro hinted at or suggested that they land, Nico would make up a lame excuse: "I like the breeze up here," or "the sand is too hot," or "maybe later, but right now it's too crowded down there."

Pedro noticed Nico's unusually timid and paranoid attitude, which contrasted with his usually overconfident attitude. Every time Pedro would ask to go down to the beach, Nico would answer too quickly with an answer that, for Nico, made absolutely no sense. Nico never cared if the beach was too crowded. If anything, Nico loved the beach being crowded. That meant more mingling. It seemed as if Nico was afraid, watching for somebody, as if he was a gangster who owed someone powerful big money.

Pedro was worried. Nico rarely acted like this. When he did, something was wrong big time. Pedro remembered the last time Nico acted this paranoid: four years ago, Nico had fully converted his original nervous attitude to his newfound confident attitude, when he suddenly started acting nervous and paranoid again. Pedro figured it was just a phase or something, and that nothing serious would come out of it.

Boy, how wrong he was. One night, after leaving their new club, they had decided to walk down a dark alleyway (afterwards, Pedro had realized just how stupid and cliché that was). While walking down the alleyway, Pedro had stopped because he hit his foot on something painfully hard. When he looked up, Nico was gone. He called for Nico, and was returned with a panicked, half-cut-off scream, "PED—!"

Pedro had quickly located Nico in an adjacent alleyway, pinned down by a pelican twice his size, his wing covering Nico's beak, holding something shiny high over Nico's body with the other wing. Pedro had promptly tackled the pelican, and, using the element of surprise, knocked him out, the noise of the fight attracting Rafael; the toucan had coincidentally been flying nearby.

It turned out that this pelican had been stalking Nico for weeks, for reasons unknown, and that Nico's new independent attitude had prevented him from asking for help when he had begun to take notice. This decision had almost gotten Nico killed. The pelican had planned to pin Nico in the alleyway and stab him with the piece of glass, which he had held in his wing. Because of this incident, Pedro knew that Nico acting paranoid and timid could very well mean disaster.

It was for this reason that Pedro was concerned, and so, while flying, he turned his head towards Nico, and asked, with a concerned look in his face and a similar tone in his voice, "Nico, what's wrong, man?"

Nico, in the same paranoid fashion, turned his head sharply to Pedro, and quickly answered, "What? Paranoid? I'm not paranoid!" He nervously adjusted the bottle cap on his head—this was a habit of Nico's when he was nervous, Pedro had discovered—and quickly looked around him again.

Pedro donned an even more concerned look. "Uh… Nico, I never said you were paranoid."

Nico, who was more concerned with nervously surveying the landscape, barely heard Pedro; he turned his head to his cardinal friend and said, "What were you saying, Pedro? I didn't hear you." Almost instantly, he threw another glance over his shoulder.

Pedro rolled his eyes. "That's it, follow me!" And with no other explanation, he changed his flight path and flew to the left. Nico absent-mindedly followed him, until he realized that Pedro had flown over the street parallel to the beach and had landed on the ledge of a building overlooking the street.

"Uh, Pedro, why don't we keep flying—" Nico was obviously more nervous than ever. Now, it was completely obvious that he did not want to land.

"No, Nico." Pedro was unusually serious now. "He have to talk. Now."

Nico, startled by Pedro's sudden and unusual seriousness, reluctantly flew over to the rooftop and landed on the ledge, next to Pedro, adjusting his bottle cap nervously again.

Pedro turned to Nico, and, again, surprised Nico with another un-Pedro-like emotion: concern. A sincere, honest, burning-hot concern. It was written all over his beak and in his eyes.

Nico suddenly got worried. Pedro was never, ever like this, unless he was really worried about something. So, Nico asked, "Pedro, what's wrong. Your never like this."

"I should be saying that to you," was Pedro's reply. "You've been acting weird all day since we've left the hollow. You keep looking over your shoulder, darting your eyes all over the place, refusing to land. You need to tell me what's wrong, man."

Nico laughed an obviously fake laugh. "Pedro, nothing's wrong—"

Pedro wasn't falling for it. "Nico! Enough with the charade! I know something's wrong. Seriously wrong. I've known you for what's going on eight years, and the only time you've ever acted this way, you almost got stabbed! I'm serious, tell me what is wrong."

They stood there, silent, for an awkward few seconds, Pedro looking concerned, yet seriously over at Nico, Nico looking nervously down at his shifting feet, nervously adjusting his bottle cap.

Nico was fighting with himself: should he really tell Pedro what was going on? He didn't want to appear weak in front of his best friend. However, Pedro was persistent and concerned. Unusually persistent and concerned. In fact, now that Nico thought about it, Pedro had never acted this concerned. Sure, he would fake concern sometimes, or sometimes, he would be a little concerned about Nico. But never was he this concerned. It seemed as if Pedro legitimately feared for Nico's life.

Nico was cut in half. One part of him argued, 'Don't tell him! He'll think you're weak!' The other side of him argued, 'Tell him! You can trust him with anything! He can help you!' Nico's second half did have a point. He and Pedro had been best friends for years. They knew virtually everything about the other. One's business was the other's business. Why should he doubt that Pedro could help him?

So, sighing, he looked up from his feet, looked at Pedro, nervously turned his head slightly to the left, as to avoid eye contact with his friend, and, in almost a whisper, said, "The eagles."

Pedro was shocked. Sure, they had beaten the crap out of Nico about two weeks ago, but Pedro had never imagined Nico being afraid of anyone, those eagles included. "You mean Thiago and his gang?"

Nico nodded nervously, still avoiding eye contact with Pedro. "Yeah."

Three weeks ago, the three most feared eagles in Rio had trapped Nico in a dark alleyway in the middle of the night, while he was alone, and took their sweet time beating him up: kicking, cutting, everything they could do without killing him. Their names were Thiago—the leader and the most feared, and Carlos and Maximiliano—both part of Thiago's little, but still feared, gang. Since then, Nico had recovered physically, but not entirely psychologically yet, and had mostly stayed in the confines of his and Pedro's hollow in the rainforest. This was the first time Nico had actually left the hollow, and it was obviously fraying his nerves.

At first, Nico hadn't been afraid of the eagles, and had rubbed it right in their faces. And they couldn't do anything about it because of Rafael, his infinite connections, and his friendship with Nico and Pedro—he was an admirable foe, a force to be reckoned with. Yet, Nico had pushed the eagles too far, and they had thrown all caution to the wind and gave Nico a very unpleasant experience.

Since Rafael had yet to take action against the eagles—since that would inevitably cost many lives, since the eagles, too, have many connections—the eagles had, as they put it, "called Rafael's bluff," and now, not even Nico and Pedro were safe—especially the (formerly) cheeky Nico, who Thiago harbored a special hatred for.

This was the reason Nico was acting so strange. The last thing he wanted to do was to run across the eagles, and be terrified, humiliated, and possibly beaten up, all at the same time, in front of everybody.

Deciding to tell Pedro the rest of the situation, Nico sighed and continued: "But… that's not all. That night, when they beat me up…" Nico had to take a deep breath to keep from having a nervous break down, "Thiago said that he would kill me if I didn't fear him."

Pedro was unsure of what to say next. Somehow, he believed an "it's gonna be okay" wouldn't quite be enough. A death threat from Thiago wasn't something to be dismissed without a second thought. Thiago would definitely deliver his threat if he felt he had to, or if he just wanted to. He had killed birds in public before, without caring who saw him. Everyone knew Thiago was a murderer. So, it was understandable that Nico was a bit tense with his situation.

Pedro forced a smile, and nudged Nico gently with his wing. "Don't worry 'bout it, man. We'll talk to Rafi, and he'll clear this whole thing up."

"I hope so… I think part of the reason they didn't kill me right there is because of Rafi. At least I hope so… at least then, we'd have some sort of hold over those eagles."

"Oh, I don't think so."

Startled, Nico and Pedro jerked their heads over to the direction of the voice, and what was flying towards them made both of their—Nico's especially—stomachs drop.

The white-bodied, black winged eagle landed on the ledge besides them. He stared down at the two smaller birds menacingly, dominantly. His long, black talons clicked against the ledge as he slowly made his way across to Nico and Pedro.

"This is so weird," Maximiliano said in a "kind" voice, copying that of Thiago's "kind" voice, which Thiago used when he was trying to strike fear into the heart of someone. "I was just flying along, minding my own business, when I come across you two, standing on this here ledge. When I flew closer, it appeared that you two were talking about Thiago. I would like to hear what you two were talking about, if that's okay with you."

Nico instinctively shrank back. Seeing this, Pedro stepped forward, and countered, "Yo, Maxi, it's sweet that you're still trying to get your boss to love you the way you love him. But next time, tell your boss to do his own dirty work instead of sending his boyfriend!" Pedro shot out a smirk in the eagle's direction.

Maximiliano smiled, and held up a talon, as a human would hold up a finger. A smile appeared on the eagle's beak. "That was a good one, Pedro! Really! A true comedian." The eagle's smile widened. "However, I'm sure than Nico could easily top that. C'mon, Nico, show us what you got!"

Before three weeks ago, Nico would have gladly accepted that invitation. However, now that the eagles had shown him very graphically that Rafael had very little—if any—hold over them, Nico was too frightened to say anything. His voice caught in his throat, and all he could do was stand there, with his frightened little eyes, shaking, staring up at the eagle, whose cold eyes hovered at least three feet above him.

Maximiliano feigned shock. "What? No snappy comeback? No cheeky joke? Nico, Nico, Nico! What's happened to you?"

Nico shivered. Three weeks ago, Thiago had taunted Nico in a similar manner, as he was beating the little canary up. And now, the eagle that had, three weeks ago, called Nico small, weak, and defenseless, was now playing that same card.

"Well, your not as happy as I remember… well, before you started crying, like a little chick in his nest cries for his mama." Maximiliano's smile grew even wider, if possible, as he reopened this old wound, too.

Nico also remembered it, like it was yesterday. He was curled up in a little ball, lying at the feet of the three eagles, lying in a puddle of his own tears and blood, the eagles mercilessly assaulting him, taking great care to cut him as slowly as possible, and to kick him as hard as possible. He couldn't even keep his head turned in the same general direction of Pedro, out of pure humiliation.

Of course, jerks like Maximiliano seemed to live off of the humiliation that they caused, and thrive off of it. "Now, Nico. Don't be embarrassed. There is nothing to be ashamed of by weeping like a little baby. Or lying in your own vomit."

Nico hung his head low. He couldn't even look at Pedro. What he must think of him now… weak, defenseless…

Pedro didn't think any of those. He was too busy seeing red. He wanted to tear that eagle's throat out! No one did that to his friend and got away with it! Still, even through his anger, he could still see that it would be a losing battle. He would get both of them killed.

"C'mon, Nico," he said to his humiliated friend. "Let's get away from this goon." He grabbed Nico's wing, and started to pull him in the opposite direction of Maximiliano, when suddenly, the eagle appeared in front of them, blocking their path.

"Oh, I don't think you'll be leaving so soon." The eagle smiled eerily as he said this.

To Nico, the eagle's talons seemed to be growing, seemed to be sharpening, as he realized that, pretty soon, they would probably have a first hand taste of the pain they could inflict. Nico wasn't too thrilled about reliving that experience.

Pedro, against his better judgment, and thanks to his ego, smiled defiantly. "What makes you think that, bird?"

Maximiliano simply answered back, "These do," and, with no further warning or explanation, lunged at the two smaller birds, swinging his deadly talons in their direction.

Whether it was their quick reactions, or a miracle, they didn't know, but as the large eagle lunged at Nico and Pedro, they, almost instinctively, fell backwards, the tips of their beaks just barely avoiding being lopped off by the razor sharp talons. Luckily, Maximiliano overshot them by several yards, due to his fearsome momentum.

This gave Pedro plenty of time to plan his ingenious escape: "Yo, Nico, time to fly!" The next second, both birds were jumping off of the side of the building, and flying in the complete opposite direction that Maximiliano had flown in; they were flying towards the beach.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Nico could see that the eagle had quickly recovered, and was gaining on them. Fast. He looked over and saw Pedro realizing the same. "Pedro, we'd better pick it up!"

Nico and Pedro flapped their wings harder, desperately trying to gain speed. They succeeded, but still, Maximiliano was still gaining, now only feet behind them.

"Dive, man!" Nico screamed as Maximiliano, talons in the ready, flew up behind them. Both canary and cardinal narrowly avoided becoming headless as the talons swung, harmlessly, over their heads, with just centimeters to spare, as they dived towards the sandy beach.

But, still, Maximiliano, even though he had fallen behind, was, again, gaining on them, quickly closing the gap of beach that separated him from the two smaller birds flying ahead of him.

"Jeez!" Pedro breathed, feeling the exhaustion of trying to out fly one of the fastest eagles in all of Rio. "This guy won't quit!"

Nico, who was, too, becoming exhausted, replied, "Come on, this—!" The next moment, Nico was eating sand, and felt an almost unbearable tightness in his chest. Looking up, he saw the face of Maximiliano hovering many feet above him, his talons grasping the little canary tightly, pressing him to the sand of the beach. Nico started trembling. He couldn't breathe.

The large crowd of birds, which had inevitably gathered around Nico and the fearsome eagle, just stood there, a safe distance away, wondering what would happen to the popular canary that they all knew and liked. Of course, none of them would intervene. They weren't insane.

"C'mon, Nico, give me a joke, a comeback, a jab, anything!" He surveyed the trembling bird. Then, a mean, cold look appeared on the eagle's face, just like when he and the other two eagles had trapped Nico in the alleyway. "Ha, just what I thought. You're nothing but a little, weak—"

"Hey, man, nobody messes with a friend of Pedro!" Pedro furiously shouted as he sped towards the eagle after he had finally noticed that Nico wasn't flying besides him anymore.

A defiant grin grew on the eagle's face. "What'chya gonna do about it, small fry? Cry just like your frie—OW!"

Maximiliano let out a yelp of pain as Nico—who had managed to summon all of his courage—bit into a chunk of skin and feathers on the eagle's leg and tore them out as hard as he possibly could. Nico was left with a mess of skin, feathers, and blood in his beak, which he promptly spit out once he realized that the grasp of the eagle's talons had lessened considerably.

Managing to squeeze out of Maximiliano's talons, Nico motioned for Pedro to follow. "Let's beat it, man!" Flinging himself into the air, he flew, closely followed by Pedro, in the direction of the busy street next to the beach. From behind him, Nico could hear the eagle's angry shouts: "You little bastardo! You're dead!"

Looking over their shoulders, they saw Maximiliano who was, once again, speeding towards them. This guy really wouldn't quit!

Flapping their aching wings even harder, the canary and the cardinal zoomed over the street, low enough to be well in danger of being hit by one of the many cars that sped down it. However, now, they had bigger things to worry about. Maximiliano was right behind them.

"Haha, now I—!"

A loud thump, a shattering noise, and a sickening crunch followed this cut off statement, and a look behind them confirmed to the small birds that Maximiliano was no longer following them.

Nico and Pedro, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, landed on the other side of the street, gasping for breath. That chase had taken everything out of them.

"Yo, man," Nico managed to breath out in between his gasps for breath. "Look." He pointed across the street. Pedro followed his wing's path, and what he saw shocked him, as it was currently shocking the large crowd of birds that had gathered in front of the still Jeep.

The Jeep had a spider web crack on its windshield, which was laced with red—blood. The blood was also smeared on the hood of the Jeep, and formed a red path across the hood, and down the front of the jeep. However, it wasn't this sight that left Nico, Pedro, and the countless other birds speechless. No, it was what lay in front of the Jeep that did.

The broken, bloody heap of feathers that was once Maximiliano, which lay at the wheels of the Jeep, was what did. A pool of blood spread out underneath the motionless form, spreading across the tar road.

"Move it, out of the way, make room!" The familiar voice shouted out as Rafael pushed his way through the crowd, appearing at the front, approaching the body of Maximiliano. He walked around the obviously disturbed humans that stood around the eagle, who had been the passengers of the truck.

Nico nudged Pedro with his wing. "C'mon, man." Adjusting his bottle cap, which had fallen over his eyes, Nico, followed by Pedro, flew over the street—a safe distance above the cars, of course—and landed next to Rafael. Needless to say, Rafael was somewhat shocked to see the two birds here under these circumstances.

"Nico? Pedro?" Rafael's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he spotted the two birds. "What in o nome do Deus happened?"

"Yo, man," Pedro began, his speech increasing its speed twenty times, "this eagle here was chasing us, right? And we were flying around wicked fast like, and the eagle came up behind us, and was like—"

"Pedro, Pedro!" Rafael held up his wings in a slow-it-down gesture. "Calm down! What happened here?"

Nico decided to take over the explaining. "I have no idea. We were flying over the street, when, apparently, he was tackled by a car."

Requiring no other explanation, Rafael walked over to the still Maximiliano, and, with his wing, tried feeling for a pulse in the eagles wing and neck (much to the astonishment of the humans standing over the birds). He stood there for a little bit, attempting to find some sort of life in the mangled body.

Then, to the shock of every bird, he turned around, looked at the crowd—especially at Nico and Pedro—and, solemnly, simply, stated, "He's dead."

A clearly audible chorus of gasps and murmurs spread throughout the crowd. Maximiliano, one of the three most feared and dangerous eagles in all of Rio de Janeiro, who had, on some occasion, terrorized them all and filled them with fear, had just been killed by Nico and Pedro.

That was the general consensus. Of course, it wasn't really like that. The eagle had, more or less, done this to himself. Nico and Pedro hadn't directly killed him like the murmurs said they had. However, Maximiliano had been chasing them when he had died, and so, therefore, in the crowd's eyes, Nico and Pedro were to blame. Normally, they would be celebrating the two "heroic" birds, but they were afraid what would happen to them if they did. After all, there were still the two other eagles of this group.

Nico and Pedro were at loss for words. They honestly had no idea what to do now, what to say next, how to feel. They had rid Rio of a very dangerous eagle, but now, there would be two more dangerous eagles on their tail, almost definitely looking for revenge.

Pedro was the first to speak. "What now, Rafi?"

Rafael answered almost immediately. "Leave. Now. The last thing you want is for those other two goons to catch you here—"

"Now, what do we have here?"

Rafael cursed under his breath. That voice had belonged to Thiago, who was, undisputedly, the most feared eagle in all of Rio. And, he was attracted to large crowds—probably to spread the fear that always followed him. That was unfortunate for Nico and Pedro.

"What's going on here?" Thiago asked in his almost pleasant voice, his massive presence landing on the road, followed by the other eagle, Carlos. He faced the crowd. "What's so interesting?"

The crowd shrank back, away from Thiago. They didn't want to be too near to him when he realized what had happened.

"What's the matter?" Thiago laughed. "Cat's got—"

Carlos interrupted Thiago's speech by grabbing his shoulder with his wing. "Thiago!"

Thiago turned to the completely black, crow-like eagle. He hated to be interrupted. "What is so important—?" He saw the body.

All of the composure in him that everyone feared disintegrated, and was replaced by something even more fearful: fury. His gray head stiffened, his black wings trembled, his black chest heaved, his eyes narrowed, his talons grinded against the road so hard, that they might have created sparks.

And then, the mighty eagle yelled so furiously and so loudly, that every bird in the area—even Rafael—and even the humans looking down upon him (who only heard angry caws)—took at least three steps back: "WHO DID THIS? WHO? I WANT A NAME!"

An immediate answer, which froze Nico and Pedro to the very spots on which they stood, emerged from a little bluebird in the front of the crowd, the pipsqueak pointing over at them, his little voice shaking: "They did! Nico and Pedro killed the big eagle!"

Yep, so that's chapter one ending with (somewhat of) a cliffhanger. If you liked it, or even if you think I can do better, leave a review telling me what you think. Reviews really encourage an author to write! If not, still, thanks for reading my first chapter! I hope you liked it, and I hope to update soon!